


A Dance with Knives

by purple_bookcover



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Anal Sex, Assassin Yuri, Assassination, Knives, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc, Other, Rope Bondage, ultra rarepair big bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Yuri is a skilled assassin, but their mark, one Felix Fraldarius, seems to be more wary and more skilled than the average rich aristocrat. Still, Yuri has to get the job done, so they sneak into Felix's birthday party, sizing up the last of the Fraldariuses with a dance before returning at night to complete the bloody deed...
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	A Dance with Knives

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Ultra Rarepair Big Bang! Check out my partner's amazing art!

Yuri stood out.

Yuri always stood out. The secret, they’d found, was to stick out just enough. 

Going noticed when they entered the ballroom had some advantages. Many of the guests filtering into the party wore pale blue, muted gray, conservative black. A few were bold enough for red, a vest here, a lady’s gloves there. 

Yuri wore purple. A lavender vest embroidered with thread of gold and matching lavender coat over it. Their pants were black; their undershirt white. Small concessions to propriety, but they wore no hat, letting their hair spill down their shoulders. 

Taken altogether, it was just enough to draw curious eyes as Yuri strode into the party.

“Your invitation?” 

Yuri smiled at the polite doorman in his black uniform. “Why, of course.” 

They reached into their jacket, producing a folded paper. The doorman took it, looked it over, glanced between the letter and Yuri. Their lips twisted into a frown. Suspicious types were always a bit of an annoyance, but Yuri had paid handsomely for that forgery. They waited patiently.

Sure enough, the doorman eventually grumbled, waving for Yuri to pass. 

All those curious eyes got a closer look as Yuri stepped into the ballroom. Chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, scorching and bright. Yuri was instantly absorbed into the crowd milling about with flutes of champagne and potato petites and palm-sized sponge cakes.

They wove through the throng, keeping their steps steady and measured. It would not do to seem like they were in any kind of rush. There was a flow to these things. Slipping into the natural stream of conversation would yield results more quickly than trying to force the matter.

Sure enough, as Yuri examined a tray of decorative cakes topped with petals, they received a crumb. 

“He never appears.”

It was low, muttered, hushed like a secret, but for all that Yuri could still pick up the note of annoyance. They drifted closer, loitering at the edges of the conversation. 

“...a terrible host.” 

“It’s undignified.”

“The Fraldarius family has always been … eccentric.” 

“Even so, there’s a certain amount of decorum.”

“Do you think he’ll attend tonight? It’s his own birthday.” 

“I would not pin my hopes upon it.”

A disgruntled little noise. 

The grumbling went on, but Yuri left it behind, skimming the edges of the party. The far end of the massive room hosted a dance floor where couples turned in unison while violinists played in the corner. 

It did not take long for Yuri to secure a dance partner. The lady was pretty enough, but a conservative dancer and rather dull. Yuri didn’t mind. It allowed them to plan their next move. 

Everything Yuri had heard about Felix Fraldarius was confirmed by the whispers about the man. Reclusive, thorny, difficult to access. It was both why he was Yuri’s target and why he’d be a difficult mark to kill. A man that guarded tended to see the knife coming, no matter how stealthily Yuri proceeded. He also tended to have enemies, lots of enemies, enemies able to hire an assassin skilled enough cut past those careful defenses.

An assassin like Yuri.

The woman bowed, passing Yuri to a man who proved even more timid. Yuri took the lead for the next dance.

Yuri didn’t know why Felix had enemies. Wealth and station were often enough to attract some amount of unkind attention. 

It made no difference. Yuri didn’t ask why their target was their target. They simply got the job done. 

The song ended, the man bowed and Yuri excused themself from the dance floor. Two songs were enough to be seen, to seem an ordinary and unremarkable guest, to put Yuri in people’s memories in such a way that they wouldn’t suspect them of the violence to come. 

A murmur rippled through the assembly. The music hushed. Yuri followed the crowd’s gaze toward the staircase at the front of the room, the very staircase Yuri had walked down to enter the gathering. 

Now, a man stood at the top of it. He was not tall, but loomed anyway, dark among the searing brightness of the ballroom. He wore simple gray, the only slash of color coming from the blue vest snug around his thin waist beneath his jacket. Like Yuri, he had no hat, though he did wear a decorative sword belted around his hips. The pommel glinted silver as he paced down the steps and into the party. 

The whole room shifted, as though the entire Fraldarius manse was a table and the guests just marbles rolling down it. The man had a gravity, despite his silence and his plain manner of dress. 

Perhaps it was because he was so very beautiful.

Yuri didn’t need to get close to know this was Felix Fraldarius, or that he would only be more stunning up close. His blue-black hair was piled atop his head in a bun, stray wisps tickling his pale face. Even from the far end of the room, Yuri felt the heat of his amber eyes as they swept over the assembly. 

Yuri struggled to look away. This was the mark. Yuri couldn’t go rushing in like some blushing maiden desperate for Felix’s attention, though something in their gut told them they were more eager than they ought to be. 

“He actually appeared.” 

“That’s the Fraldarius heir, right?” 

“Wonder what made him actually show his face.”

Yuri drank up the whispers, some breathless with admiration, some needy and hungry, some twisted with bitterness. Whatever the case, the hushed voices only confirmed all that Yuri had guessed. 

Still, they lingered on the fringes of the party, steeling themself with careful sips of champagne, letting the celebration unfold around them. When the band picked back up, the dance floor was far more full than it had been previously. All these peacocks were performing for the guest of honor, twirling heavy skirts, shucking off their jackets to reveal the finery beneath, vying for Felix’s attention. 

Yuri just watched, waiting. Felix did eventually join the dancing, though he seemed less than pleased by it. He cycled through partners, an adequate but uninspiring dancer, and even though Yuri saw his partners speaking with him, they never saw Felix respond. 

Perhaps he simply hadn’t gotten the right partner yet.

Yuri stepped in, tapping a blushing woman on the shoulder to request Felix’s next dance. She bowed and relinquished her position, though Yuri felt her scowl boring into their back as she exited the floor.

“My lord Fraldarius,” Yuri said, holding up their hands. 

Felix’s eyes sharpened, keen as broken glass in the glare of the chandeliers. He said nothing, but took Yuri’s hands. 

Yuri suppressed a smile. They’d held out their arms in such a way to invite Felix to be the follower while Yuri led. In truth, they’d been curious about whether Felix would push back against being presented with the less dominant role, but he made no protest as the song began and Yuri chose a rhythm. 

Felix was a good enough dancer. Even so, Yuri started simple, taking Felix through a box step that fell on the obvious beats of the music. 

Only when that sharp edge to Felix’s eyes dimmed did Yuri change tack, switching mid-song to a more complicated series of steps. Some fell between the beats. Some fell on the beats but in unexpected directions. 

Still, Felix followed, his footwork immaculate. Even when Yuri led him through a turn, Felix did not stumble, returning to Yuri’s arms perfectly on cue. 

This was not the footwork of some soft rich boy. Yuri nearly smiled. There was more to this Felix than a pampered aristocrat. No wonder someone wanted him dead. 

The song ended. Yuri stepped back, preparing to bow and excuse themself, but Felix changed their positioning in the moment they were apart, sweeping Yuri into his arms so that now they would be the one following. 

Yuri couldn’t completely hide their surprise, a fact they realized only because of the subtle upturn to Felix’s thin lips. 

Felix’s hand was on Yuri’s waist now, firm and sure. Yuri held onto Felix’s shoulder as the next song began, but the sudden shift in position left them just a fraction off balance. They had to hold on tighter than they would have liked, stuttering through the first few steps before they managed to regain their balance and composure. 

Yuri soon matched Felix’s pace, learned his steps. He was a good dancer, but not a particularly creative one, so even when he changed things up a little, Yuri instantly shifted to follow. He did not spin or turn Yuri, though when the song neared its end he suddenly dropped them into a low dip.

They paused there, Felix’s arm supporting Yuri. They leaned a little more weight into that arm, testing just how much Felix was willing to take. 

He scooped Yuri up, bringing them back up to standing. They both paused there, arms around each other, eyes meeting like swords clashing. Neither willing to be the first to relent.

The music restarted before either of them backed down. 

They switched leads throughout the next song. Yuri turned Felix; Felix dipped Yuri, swinging them back up. They paced around each other at points, danced nearly chest to chest at other points. 

When the song ended, they were both out of breath, pressed so close Yuri could practically taste Felix’s breath. Felix’s hand lingered on the small of Yuri’s back, still firm enough to guide. Yuri smiled, lips curling. 

Felix jerked away. 

“Thank you for the dance,” he said. He offered a short bow, barely a nod of his head, before turning on his heel and exiting the dance floor.

The crowd swallowed Felix as he disappeared among them, but Yuri could see the ripples of his passing, the murmurs that spread out among the guests, the way the assembly parted to let him leave only to close back in as though chasing the scent of his steps. 

That was the last anyone saw of him that night.

Anyone except Yuri.

#

The mansion was different in total darkness.

Yuri had exited the party hours ago, but never truly left. Rather, they’d ducked into the gardens curated on the manse’s grounds, shucking off their coat, unbuttoning their vest, slipping into shoes more sturdy and less decorative. 

They’d bundled up the discarded clothing and thrown it over the edge of the wall to retrieve later. For now, they needed to move as lightly as possible.

Yuri patted at their thighs. The knives they’d worn under their clothing all night remained in place. It’d been a bit of a risk to carry them into the party, but they couldn’t chance the weapons being found by some couple traipsing through the gardens. 

Yuri slipped back into the manse through a window they’d left open hours ago. It dropped them right back into the grand hall where the festivities had taken place. It was cavernous now, even larger and more imposing in the dark, empty of everything but Yuri and the detritus of the party. 

Yuri padded across the floor, heading for the stairs at the back, the very stairs they’d entered down. Now, they were barred by two large doors shut up tight for the night. Yuri pressed an ear to the wood, listening, but all was quiet on the other side.

In fact, the entire mansion lay quiet. As Yuri slipped out of the doors and into the hall, they found hardly a mouse astir in the elaborate home. Once or twice, they stopped, pausing to inspect what sounded like footsteps, but it was merely the creaking of the wood settling and shifting. Did Felix not have guards? Yuri was sure they’d seen servants earlier, but they seemed to have retired for the night, if they were still here at all. What a lonely existence, Yuri thought, having all this space for only oneself.

The carpeting on the stairs helped silence Yuri’s footsteps as they padded to the higher floor. Family photos hung on the walls, somber portraits of sober, dark-haired, pale Fraldariuses. Any of them could have been Felix himself, though Yuri presumed a few were other members of the venerated family. None of them looked particularly pleased by their wealth and status, but Yuri found that was oddly common among these “old nobles.” It was the ones newer to wealth who were the most unabashedly giddy over their hoards.

Only one room in the entire upstairs floor had double doors. Yuri was sure it must be Felix’s bedroom. 

They paused at the doors, listening. Yuri slid a knife out of their pants and into their hand. Only after several long breaths of silence did they crack open one of the doors. 

It slid soundlessly open and Yuri dove into deeper darkness. They waited, blinking until they adjusted to the bleakness shrouding the bedroom. 

For all its size, the bedroom contained little but the bed itself. There was a wash basin and mirror, a chest of drawers, some clothing scattered haphazardly on the floor as though discarded angrily. And then the bed itself, an ostentatious four-poster with drapery shrouding it. 

Yuri nearly crawled toward it. They could not hear anyone breathing, but they were sure the lump beyond the curtains was Felix. Goddess willing, he was sleeping. Goddess willing, he wouldn’t even know Yuri was here before he died quietly. 

Yuri reached the edge of the bed. It was tall enough that they could crouch beside it without being able to see the top. Finally, they heard the telltale deep breathing of someone sleeping soundly above them. 

They took their own deep breath. Even after all this time, they needed a moment to gather themself, a moment to prepare for the violence to come. 

Yuri leapt up, jumping onto the bed. Felix lay in the center of it and Yuri straddled him, raised their knife and grabbed him by the hair to expose his throat all in one swift motion. 

Felix glared up at them.

Yuri paused, blood going cold. In the next instant, they rolled back as Felix swiped at them with a knife. 

Yuri crouched atop the bed, unsteady on the soft footing of the mattress. Felix was up just as quickly, his own knife gripped in his hand. 

_Shit._

Yuri dove off the bed, leaping to the floor. This was bad. This was really, really bad. Felix wasn’t even supposed to know Yuri was here, but he was not only awake but _armed_ , like he’d been waiting for Yuri all night.

They rushed for the exit. A knife whizzed past Yuri’s ear, striking the wood, blade trembling as it jutted from the door. 

Yuri turned slowly and found Felix staring from the other end of the room. He already had a new knife in his grip. 

“Hold on,” Yuri started, but they never got to finish.

Felix rushed toward them. Yuri was quick. Yuri had always been quick. But Felix’s speed was nearly a match for their own. Combined with the surprise of the attack, Yuri could do little but fall back as Felix swiped at them with his knife. 

Yuri recovered, setting their feet, getting their own knife up defensively.

Felix fell into a fighter’s stance. It gave Yuri a moment’s pause. Did this rich boy actually know how to brawl or was he just posturing? Betting on the latter was too risky a gamble.

“I knew,” Felix said. “When we danced, I knew what you were.” 

“That so?” Yuri said. 

“Who sent you this time? You should know I’ve killed plenty of knives-for-hire in the past. I’ll kill you too.”

“Oh my,” Yuri said. “Someone taught the rich boy to fight, hm? Sadly, I cannot disclose my patrons. Rather poor form. I’m sure you understand.” 

“What do they want?” Felix said. “My father’s fortune is nearly depleted. If they’re hoping to watch us fall, they won’t have to wait long.”

Yuri shrugged. “They don’t tell me why, just who. I don’t need to know more than that.” 

Felix growled low in his throat, lip twitching up into a sneer. 

Then he charged.

Yuri tried to dance back, to disengage, but that speed of Felix’s surprised them again. Felix managed to jab at Yuri’s arm, forcing Yuri to beat aside the attack. They knew they were bleeding, but pushed the pain aside. It wasn’t worth worrying about. There was only one certainty in any knife fight: Everybody bled. 

Yuri ensured Felix did his fair share of the bleeding next, disregarding the sharp pain in their arm as they stabbed at Felix. He dodged backward, but Yuri managed to get a swipe at his thigh before he escaped. 

They stared at each other again, both bleeding, both still gripping their weapons, clothing torn in places. 

Felix barely paused before charging back in. He jabbed and slashed, almost wild in his reckless attacks. He was leaving himself open. Or, rather, he should have been, but the damn Fraldarius heir was a more competent fighter than any rich boy had any right to be. 

Yuri realized they couldn’t fight their way out. So they fought their way in.

Yuri grabbed, yanking Felix close, slamming their bodies together. It put them far too close for comfort, but gave Yuri a moment of shock in which to grab Felix’s knife hand and twist it. Felix kept clinging desperately to the weapon, snarling, teeth bared. Yuri swept around him, twisting Felix’s arm and jamming it behind his back.

It didn’t matter if Felix kept a hold on the knife or not. Yuri was behind him now, their knife at his throat, their free hand keeping his arm locked. 

Felix dropped the knife. 

And bit Yuri’s hand.

“Fuck,” Yuri cursed. 

Their own knife fell, but they still had Felix’s arm behind his back. Felix jerked, trying to reach for the knife, but Yuri yanked on his arm, threatening to break it if he went any farther. Felix lashed out a foot, kicking right into Yuri’s shins.

They both tumbled to the floor. Yuri had only an instant in the chaos and confusion to get on top of Felix. They grabbed his wrists and attempted to pin them above Felix’s head but he fought back, hips bucking as he tried to throw Yuri off. Yuri leveraged all their weight and finally got Felix’s arms pressed down to the floor over his head. They had to lean far over Felix to achieve it, placing their face close to Felix’s.

They both panted, tasting that shared air just as they had on the dance floor. 

“I’m the last one,” Felix said.

“What?” 

“The last Fraldarius,” Felix said. “The bloodline ends with me. Tell your fucking patron that it’s over either way.” 

Yuri lifted an eyebrow. Then they laughed, right there in Felix’s face. 

Felix narrowed his eyes. “You find this amusing?” 

“No,” Yuri said, sobering. “I find my work anything but amusing. But you … you are another matter.” 

That only made the snarl on Felix’s lips twist more. “I know you.”

“Excuse me?” 

“They’ve been after me for a long time,” Felix said. “This family or that, some rival group, someone who wants my family’s fortune. They don’t realize that what they’re after is already gone. But how could they? I’ve killed all their other little ‘messengers.’ I suppose it was only a matter of time before they finally sent the Savage Mockingbird for me.”

Yuri’s smile curled like smoke. “You do indeed know me. Do I live up to the tales?”

“Expected you to be a little bigger.”

Well, that was blunt. “You don’t need size to slit a throat.”

“I suppose not.” Felix glared, defiant. “Is that what you mean to do now, Mockingbird?” 

“No.” Yuri didn’t realize they meant it until the word passed their lips. Felix looked just as surprised as Yuri felt. There was just something about this amber-eyed rich boy. The way he fought, the way he danced… Yuri couldn’t help imagining what else he might do with such fervor and passion and grace. 

“What do you want then?” Felix said, but his voice had lost a little of its bite.

“I’m not sure,” Yuri said. They leaned closer, so close their lips were against Felix’s ear. “That depends on what you want.” 

Felix went tense beneath Yuri. They took a chance, played a lucky hand, and switched their grip on Felix’s wrists to slot their fingers between his. 

“I was something else before I was an assassin,” Yuri purred at Felix’s ear. “I used to bring people pleasure rather than pain.”

“Why did you switch?” 

“The pain pays better.” 

Yuri was close enough to feel Felix’s throat bob as he swallowed. 

Yuri sat up on Felix’s waist, peering down at him. He just lay there at first, watching, lips slightly parted. Then he moved his hands tentatively toward Yuri’s thighs, grazing his fingers up along them. 

It could be a ruse, a lie, a means of getting Yuri disarmed and vulnerable. But somehow Yuri doubted it. This Felix didn’t seem to have much talent for artifice. No, if anyone here was full of shit, it was Yuri themself as they hesitated, acting like this was any choice at all. 

What they’d told Felix was true, at least. They’d had a different job before all this. They had once been an expert in pleasure rather than death. But they hadn’t quit because of the pay. They’d quit because that pleasure so often came at their own expense, because their clients would so often take and take and never consider if Yuri had anything left to give. At least when they were hired for murder, the terms were clear. 

Something in the honest yearning they found in the man beneath them now made Yuri want to not just spare him, but give him things he couldn’t possibly fathom. Felix’s hands trembled on Yuri’s thighs, his breaths audible in the silent, echoing mansion. How easily Yuri could unravel him, unmake him, destroy him. 

In a way, that was exactly what they’d been hired to do, wasn’t it?

They swept down, pressing Felix to the floor by his mouth rather than his arms. Felix moaned against Yuri’s lips, hands sliding up to their hips. He didn’t grip tightly, but there was still an urgency to it, a desperation. 

Yuri broke away, placing their hands on Felix’s chest to press him down as they rolled their hips. Felix’s face immediately changed, going rosy with yearning. He squirmed as he tried to tip his head back, but only managed to muss his hair against the floor. 

Yuri chewed at their lip, pushing their hips more firmly against him. They could feel Felix under them. Goddess, he was so eager it was almost embarrassing. But Yuri supposed there really was little room for shame when you were fucking the person who’d come to kill you. 

Felix grabbed Yuri suddenly. The floor hit their back hard as Felix flipped them over so they lay beneath him. 

Felix barely paused, trailing down Yuri’s body, shoving up their shirt to kiss at their torso and the dip at their hips. Felix fumbled at the laces to Yuri’s pants, but Yuri did not help him. They raised their arms over their head, writhing their hips, watching Felix quivering as he tugged Yuri’s pants down. 

Felix lingered between Yuri’s knees for a moment, actually licking his lips as he looked down at them. That made Yuri’s cock twitch against them. This wasn’t like Yuri’s past clients. They’d looked at Yuri with greed, true, and there was surely a fair amount of greed in Felix’s gaze. But there was also reverence there, molten, earnest desire that sent Yuri’s heart racing. 

Felix bent down between Yuri’s knees, taking them into his mouth. Yuri drew in a sharp breath as Felix’s lips fit around their cock and slid down. Felix was buried between their legs, head bobbing up and down. 

Yuri couldn’t resist reaching for him, pulling at the tie restraining his hair so those lovely, inky locks fell loose around him. The cascade of hair spilled over Yuri as Felix kept sucking on their cock. 

Felix flicked out his tongue, running it up and down Yuri and swirling it at the head. It was enough to have Yuri whining with pleasure and rocking their hips. 

Felix drew away so suddenly Yuri gasped.

“What is it?” Yuri said.

Felix peered at them through the dark, amber eyes bright and keen. “I can’t actually trust you.”

Normally Yuri might have laughed, but they were still breathless and hard and aching and goddess, why had Felix stopped? “Of course you can’t.” 

“Perhaps I should … take precautions.” 

Yuri had utterly no idea what Felix meant, but something in his tone sent a shiver down their spine. 

He jumped to his feet, stomping away through the bedroom, opening drawers, tossing something heavy onto the bed. 

Yuri followed him, still wearing only a shirt, feeling ridiculous with their pants gone and dick hard.

Felix finally faced them again. “Come here.” 

Yuri did. They were probably going to die for it, but they did. 

When Yuri met Felix at the edge of his bed, Felix smiled, just a faint tug at one side of his mouth. He eyed Yuri up and down, then ran his hands up under their shirt in order to discard it. Yuri did likewise to Felix – it was only fair – and merciful Seiros were they glad they did. There was nothing under that shirt but lean strength. Felix looked deceptively slender in his clothes, but it hid hard planes of corded muscle that made Yuri’s mouth water. 

That was as far as Felix let them get. He pushed Yuri onto the bed. They fell onto the mattress, shuffling backward. Their hand hit something and they looked down. A rope? 

When they looked up again, Felix’s smile had grown. 

“I can’t let an assassin just move about freely,” Felix said. “That would be madness.” 

“A certain type of madness, yes,” Yuri said. 

Felix climbed onto the bed, standing up on his knees and holding the rope. It was soft, perhaps even decorative. Yuri realized it probably had no practical purpose aside from … aside from _this_. 

Felix drew near, kissing along Yuri’s chest and neck. He was still holding the rope, but not forcing it on them. 

It was Yuri who grabbed it. A flicker of fear gleamed in Felix’s eyes. My, he did need to be in control, didn’t he? As tempting as it would be to break that, tonight was probably not the time for it. 

Yuri held up the rope between them. “Are you going to use it or are you going to tease me?” 

Felix’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. 

Yuri put out their hands, but Felix shook his head. “Behind your back.” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow. This was getting interesting. They turned around and put their hands behind them. 

Felix was oddly gentle when he started winding the rope around Yuri’s wrists. Gentle but efficient, wasting neither rope nor time as he wrapped it around Yuri’s chest, binding their arms down, creating intricate intersecting lines. Yuri’s breaths deepened, a delicious sort of anxiety seizing their chest, making their blood rush hot through their body. 

Felix made one last loop, this one around Yuri’s neck, like a necklace made of rope. This last trailed down to connect the whole thing. Felix tied it off and his hands retreated from Yuri’s skin like he was sitting back to appreciate his handiwork. 

He did not admire it for long. 

The next moment, Felix pushed Yuri forward so their face was in the mattress, ass in the air. They couldn’t really adjust thanks to the ropes, but that seemed to be by design as Felix immediately started rubbing Yuri’s ass, teasing with light touches. 

Yuri’s breaths lengthened, going ragged with anticipation. Felix was barely even touching them but tingles and twinges shot up Yuri’s spine, shivering in their chest. There was a promise of more there, a promise of so much more. 

Felix’s hand withdrew, returning a moment later slick and slightly cool. The oil warmed as Felix worked it around Yuri’s hole. Again, his fingers left chaos in their wake, sparks and flares that had Yuri rolling their hips against nothing. 

“For an assassin,” Felix said, pushing a finger inside, “you seem to be remarkably defenseless.” 

Yuri moaned around the finger plunging into their ass. It therefore took them a moment before they could retort. “For a … for a rich boy, you seem remarkably whoreish—Ah!” 

Felix cut them off by squeezing another finger inside, pressing against their tight walls, curling and probing until Yuri opened to him. They hadn’t planned to fuck the Fraldarius heir tonight, but Yuri had to confess they were less and less concerned about this diversion from their plans as Felix felt around inside them. 

He slipped his fingers out. Yuri panted against the bed, hard and aching, trembling from the sudden emptiness.

Felix did not leave them that way for long. 

Yuri heard a shuffling of clothing, the whisper of skin over skin, then Felix’s cock pressed against them. 

“My,” Yuri gasped, “you work quickly. Don’t I get a ‘please?’” 

“You came here to kill me,” Felix said. He pressed against Yuri and the head popped inside. “Forgive me if I saw no need for pleasantries.” 

Yuri moaned as Felix pushed deeper, giving away just how little they cared for the niceties. It was simply too fun to keep dancing with Felix, to keep wresting control away from his fisted hands in order to watch him fight to take it back. It was pathetically obvious that he would squabble over it every time Yuri pushed. Though, their ability to do so was rapidly evaporating as Felix buried himself inside Yuri.

Felix stopped when he managed to get all the way in, panting like he was surprised by his own achievement. He did not hesitate long, however, dragging back to plunge in again. 

Yuri whimpered from the motion. It was slow, but the burn and push of Felix’s cock pressed against all the aching, quivering places within them, making Yuri writhe and sweat and moan. Felix got a hand on the ropes around Yuri’s torso, holding them like a horse’s reins, using them to push and pull against Yuri as he thrust. Just how did he know that pulling like that would make the angle of his cock even sweeter for Yuri? How did he know how to manipulate the pressure around Yuri’s chest and arms where the ropes dug in? 

The Fraldarius heir was surprising indeed. 

Felix released the ropes to shove Yuri down, pressing them into the bed as his thrusts grew more frantic. Yuri’s voice rose in both volume and pitch, chanting a rhythm that matched Felix’s pounding motions. Everything Felix’s cock hit flared bright. Yuri could see it from behind their closed eyes, all the brilliant, blaring colors warning of the flood gushing through their body. 

Yuri tried to brace with their knees, to ram back to meet Felix. It drove him deeper, harder, made both of them issue little cries of pleasure and surprise. 

Yuri slipped a hand free of the ropes. 

They’d meant to keep up the ruse for longer, but they didn’t care anymore. They brought their free hand to their own cock, starting to pump to encourage that final flash of heat that would tip them over the edge. If Felix noticed their sudden freedom, he did not stop or slow because of it. 

In fact, he thrust harder. Yuri gripped their cock, jolting against the bed, gasping around cries that never dislodged from their throat. It was like Felix was racing them toward their orgasms.

Yuri won.

They squeezed their cock after a particularly powerful thrust. As Felix scraped back over their prostate, Yuri fell apart, shuddering, that trapped moan finally knocked free to slap against the spacious walls of the bedroom. 

They were still coming in spurts when heat filled their ass. Felix did not shout, but he did grunt and his hands tightened on Yuri’s hips, fingers digging in too hard for an instant before he relented. 

They both flopped back on the bed, exhausted and filthy, gasping for breath, reeling from whatever strange dance had just ended.

Felix lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. “You could get out the entire time?” he said.

Yuri laughed, a breathy chuckle. “Of course.”

“Hm.” He didn’t exactly sound displeased. Curious, perhaps. “Are you still going to try to kill me?”

Yuri turned onto their side, propping their head up on a hand to regard Felix. He looked calm and cool already, despite his sweat-slick skin and loose hair. Yuri, by contrast, was an utter mess, loose rope still draped around them, cum trailing down a thigh. 

“Who knows?” they said. “It seems you eluded me tonight, but perhaps I’ll be tasked with trying again.” 

Felix regarded them a moment. Then he reached, grabbing Yuri, tugging them close so their naked bodies lay against each other. He kissed them, tenderly almost. 

“I suppose I’ll have to get better at tying knots,” Felix said.

Yuri smirked. “I suppose you will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


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